


Five Minutes

by greenpen



Category: Homeland
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 09:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenpen/pseuds/greenpen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something caught in her throat when he said it.<br/>(In response to <a href="http://homelandkink.livejournal.com/1467.html?thread=443#t443">this prompt</a>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Minutes

Something caught in her throat when he said it—“five minutes”—and she wouldn’t admit to herself what it was. But it was her breaths suddenly feeling sharper, the shiver crawling up her back as he brushed right past her, and the dull thud of seconds ticking past, one after the other, as she waited.

She had barely opened the door to the supply closet an inch before he grasped her hand and, overcome by the faint linger of her perfume, tugged at her waist, pulling her into him.

She smiled, feeling full of herself at his eagerness.

“Glad to see me?” she whispered into his ear, her teeth just grazing his skin, teasing him.

But he didn’t smile back. He eyed her body greedily and eased his hands under her jacket, slipping it off her shoulders.

“I thought about you all day,” he said, his breath heavy and hot on her face.

She began to undo the buttons down her blouse, trying to find the right balance between hurried and methodical, wondering whether he caught the brief flash of skin as he walked toward her, matching each step backward she took.

She hadn’t finished the whole row when he lunged toward her, pulling the collar down around her shoulders. He began to kiss her neck. She could feel his teeth on her skin now, a soft nipping, and finished the buttons off beneath his shadow.

She tugged on the front of his khakis and brought his waist toward hers. He inched forward and brought a hand above her head. She hadn’t realized they’d backed right into the wall, next to a shelf stacked high with pens, staples, and blank printer paper.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day,” he muttered as she quickly undid his belt buckle, no longer concerned with playing the game of who wanted it more. He stepped out of his khakis and swept his fingers through her hair, then down her spine, past her hips, up her skirt.

She exhaled sharply, and he noted her quivering lip.

“Make me come,” she said softly, desperate, her voice spreading thin into a whisper.

He looked up at her, at her bare shoulders, the slightest cluster of freckles there. She held one palm flat against the wall and reached for him with other, bringing his head down to her and kissing him.

Her movements were sharp and frantic, hurried. He kissed her again, first on her lips, then the cheek, her collarbone. He slid her bra straps down over her shoulders and kissed her breast. He held her small waist in his hands and moved his head lower, moving his lips over her stomach 

She snuck her fingers through his hair, trying to calm herself, as he knelt before her and eased her panties down beneath her skirt, willing herself not to curse or call out his name. He looked up at her, at her closed eyes, her bit lip, and her hand against the wall, shaking.

He stood back up slowly, and looked into her eyes, the mass of blue and green faded into each other, and thrust into her, eliciting a low moan from the back of her throat as her back hit the wall.

She lifted one leg and tucked it under his knee, gasping. Her body seemed so delicate to him, he didn’t want to hurt her. He always felt this way but she seemed to come at him harder, each time, testing his limits. Digging her nails into his shoulder, her heel into his back. So he thrust harder, grabbed onto her thigh, and spread her legs open further 

She inhaled sharply. She moved her trembling hand to his face, pulling it close to hers. Her fingers still shook at the back of his neck. She was pinned against the wall. He had one hand on her hip, keeping her in place. She could hardly move. She could feel herself coming, when he began to move his fingers down her leg, in small circles, just the ends of his fingers—lightly, like a dance. He stroked the inside of her leg and pressed his body further into hers, his cheek to hers, and she let out a low and smooth moan.

Her breath was hot. He could feel it condensing on his cheek and he pumped a few more times before he came, her lips grazing over his, her heel cutting into him.

After, she let her leg drop to the ground and she smiled hazily, her body still filled with pleasure. He caught his breath beside her and checked his watch quickly when she wasn’t looking.

He picked up his briefs from around his ankles and pulled them back on. He could feel her looking at him. He suddenly felt self-conscious.

“What?” he asked sheepishly. He bent over to pick up his pants and sat down on a stepladder as he put them back on. 

And he was so busy with the belt buckle, making sure he didn’t miss a loop, that he nearly missed her walking over to him. She approached him slowly until she was standing so close to him, right above, one leg on either side of his. He quit with the belt, his pants still unbuttoned, and looked up. She seemed like another creature again. Slowly she descended toward him until she was sitting in his lap, and he let his hands hold her waist—her whole body—in place.

“Let’s do it again,” she whispered. She laughed quietly, her eyes wrinkling, and his lips turned up into a smile. She ran her fingers through his hair as she kissed him.

His small sigh let her know he wanted more, and when he moved his palm up her chest and took hold of her breast, beginning to massage it, she moved hers up his wrinkled shirt, then lower, over his torso and under the waistband of his briefs.


End file.
